Harvest Moon, Part I
by Dreamingthisworld
Summary: In 1897 France, Angelus and his brood wreak havoc across Europe. Penn, his first attempt at a masterpiece, considers Angelus his mentor...and then some, all the while, dealing with the likes of William, Darla,and Drucilla...
1. Chapter 1

_Sowen. _

It's autumn, and there's the smell of burning in the air.

Burning fields, and death. It rises up and stings my nose, and I smirk. For thousands of years, human-kind had been giving their lives over to these fields of grain. Ancient practices, recitations to dead deities. They'd ceased, long ago, but here we were, and we rekindled it. The fear, the horror, the magicks. We would make them remember what lay waiting for them in the dark.

It wasn't unlike herding sheep-when they were frightened enough, the rams and ewes ran and moved as one: a tide of bodies, all of them warm, all of them fresh. Laughter echoed in the sharp, biting breeze-all ours- and teased the red moon that hovered in the sky. A blood moon, a blood night. Sacrifice, and for this evening, we were their gods-and their lives were in our hands.

And tonight, there was more then wheat burning...

I'd never liked her, but I confess. Dru had the most ingenious ideas when it came to a feast. When it was down to engineering a disaster, her artistic ability mirrored only our sires. As the heat-wind from the flames licked our faces, she was silent, her black velvet dress flickering more then the expression on her face. She smiled deliciously, but watched quietly. Her hair had fallen out of it's style and spilled long curls over her shoulders. She was beautiful-Angelus's favorite creation to date. Beside her, the orange light had ignited William's eyes, but they were all for her.

Darla, on the other hand, was laughing that cruel, childlike laugh. She was enjoying watching them run. She always did. I kept quiet the fact that tonight was all for Drucilla-Darla, Angelus and I preferred much..subtler entertainment. _Still,_ I admitted. This was just ingenious. And that Darla was enjoying herself? I felt a smile tug at my lips again. Even Angelus was delighted. And there we stood, the five of us. The scourge of Europe. Unholy terrors, and it was glorious. On this eve, most demons and vampires kept low-despite the strain on the veils between our world and the otherrealms. Humans worshiped their ghosts on this one night, and on this night, we would make more. There were no qualms, no rules, no notions of holding back. Even the furious tongues of fire didn't frighten us. Rather, the shadows were thrown carelessly into the trees beyond-which they ran for. They didn't know that we were quicker. Just us-just our line. We'd moved around, and they were headed for the trap. It was perfect.

Even more perfect? The darkness that had fallen over my Sire's face. Angelus was licking his lips as does a hungry lion, and his eyes were just as yellow as the demon gazed out from them. He was hungry. Those pounding, throbbing veins rushing towards us, and there was a stifling scent of craving in the air. Was it for blood, or something else? Well. I could speak for myself.

And then he looked at me, with those molten-gold eyes. Angelus, the demon with the face of an angel, and smiled. He knew what I was thinking. He always did, when I stared at him that way.

"Soon" he whispered, leaning in close. Even in the heat, I felt a shudder run down my spine.

Only this demon. Only this Angel.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but his brow was slant and his features feral. My hungers shifted. Blood wouldn't be all that was on the menu tonight. Not for me, nor for William, who was grinning darkly at me over Angelus's shoulder. More words followed, and not spoken for polite company. _Sire..._I snarled. Our lips met with a sharp, familiar jolt. I tasted thick iron on my tongue.

" I'll loose my last feeding, that way." I said, and made a show of looking quite put out. He was fond of this act-I think it's why he'd tended to choose poor country shepherd boys and convent girls. It had always been the innocent Angelus loved fucking with the most. I say 'with', but. That might be a slight misnomer.

Slight, mind you.

He laughed, a low deep sound in his throat, just a trace of crimson on his lips. With the orange fire dancing across his face, I thought I was staring at the devil. Oh, how I relished being damned. It was delightful. What I wouldn't do for that face, that laugh.

" It isn't like you won't get it back, is it?" that delectable smile again.

"Are my boys hungry?" a voice came from behind me. A second later, and I was awash in the smell of Ambergris. Darla's hot breath on my throat-she'd had far longer to master faking life then I, and some nights, it was worth it.

I was always better at reigning in the demon then Angelus-nearly as good as Darla, but still not up to par. It didn't want to be held back anymore. That thunder headed our way, that life. In my head, I counted the seconds. Timed it to the heartbeat nearest us. Closer. _Oh so close.._

Angelus didn't answer her. I felt another sharp sting, this one at the tip of my finger. He lapped at it as though it was a good bit of cream. He rolled it over his tongue for a minute, before a growl echoed back at me.

" Shepherd, tend your flock."

Dru made a shrieking, delighted noise behind him. When our lips had broken again, she was stroking William's hair. Now, their eyes were waiting for me. The demon smiled. _I _smiled.

And then, I was gone.

I let the first one see me. He was young, maybe someones eldest son, but no more then 16 years. He screamed and I let him. A little commotion was good. It was easier pickings when there was less of a crowd, and they scattered. How amusing. Some of them even had pitchforks.

He was hot-running through the blazing fields, and the fear—what a first meal-! One could hardly ask for anything better. It was like caramel on my tongue, rich and sweet...oh so sweet.

I savored the child. Drank him down until the steady spray in my mouth trickled down to nothing. Then I moved on to the next.

This one was older, and I took him by surprise. He hardly screamed. I drank little-the older ones were disgusting, and I left him to bleed out among the grain, as did his ancestors, and found yet another.

She had a taste of my sister, although her veins decidedly lacked the flavor of the mounds, and rather, had the faint tang of soot. She'd run strait through the ash cloud, and it had spoiled her, if only a little. I finished her, but there was less pleasure in it. Hers was a shrill scream, and just of the right caliber. From around her, there were new cries of fear, and the herd scattered.

" You haven't lost your touch, mate." a voice beside me chuckled. I dropped the girl to the ground and craned my head to see William. Nonchalantly, he snagged an older woman and fell upon her with a frenzied roar.

I couldn't help but laugh. William always had been a messy eater.


	2. Chapter 2

Shades and shadows. Ash and smoke making wraiths of the dead moan from the dancing shadows of the trees.

Where the fields were hot, now, there was only the cool night, and the damp dew. The humans had run for the groves beyond their farms, hoping to hide amidst the forest. Thinking, perhaps, that they were safe. Thinking that we wouldn't find them.

I was sluggish now. I thought perhaps, I'd eaten too much. The first one still burned in me-enough to flush my skin and make me warm again. At this temperature, I could even pass for human. That was, if I cared to.

I didn't, and didn't bother trying. I was more selective, now, about which ones I took. The panic was there. The human mass had broken, and now, they were delectably lost under the shade of night. The red moon hung low in the sky now, and threw no more light on them, as if giving permission for us to continue. Blessing the slaughter. Nights like this saw us at our most glorious.

I was hunting a pulse. It fluttered like a tiny bird-Angelus had taught me, long ago, that these fluttering, panicked types often were the most savory; they were often the hearts of youths, young and clean, and innocent. In one's mouth, they had the taste of hot fudge, and when one drank from them, it was always a pity when their veins were emptied. Innocence was a rare treat anymore. Sort of like finding a gold ring in a bucket full of rusty nails. The odds were just as well.

Ah, pity! I should have known. The little thing-a young woman, perhaps 17 or 18 by the looks of her, was leaned against a tree-trying to catch her breath, I guessed (and with the dresses they'd made the women wear then, it was a wonder she'd been able to run at all). Like Dru, her hair had come undone and was caked with ash and smouldered bits of leaves, but it was wavy and long-in the light, a spill of black around her neck. Her beautifully pale throat. And just beyond her, in the inky black of night, stood Angelus, looking almost patronly. This prize was his to claim. Oh well. I was content just to stand and watch him work. This particular talent of his was always impressive.

He was virtually silent in his approach, but when he got close enough to catch her quickly, should she run again (not that she had any hope of outrunning him anyway, this was just less work on his part), he began to drag his feet amongst the fallen leaves. She heard him coming, and turned to him like a wide-eyed doe ready to run. By now the demon had fled from his face, and he was putting on quite the show of being concerned.

" Are you alright?" he asked her, his lips have parted in that mock worry. She stared at him for a moment as though she didn't know what to do, panting like a fish thrown on land. As always, though, Angelus managed to maintain the facade, and she was convinced.

" Good sir-won't you tell me. Have the demons gone?" she breathed, still clutching her chest. Her heart was beating something furious, and I could smell that candy-like sweetness just hovering over her skin. Angelus spotted me out of the corner of his eye-I could smell his amusement, but the game—this game within a game-was his to play.

" I...don't know." my sire made a show of looking back towards the orange light on the horizon. " I think so. I..believe they've had their fill." he looked back to her. " Are you alright, my lady?"

She shook her head no, but had to catch her breath to speak her next words. " And the village?"

Ah, Angelus was in his element now. " Gone, I think. Every last one of them."

She choked. I smelled hot saltwater in the air, before her sobs started. " All of them?"

Oh, I realized. The little thing must have had a lover out there, somewhere. I thought of the first one I'd drank that night. That same sweetness. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't want her to see me there. Angelus would know. He would know, and he would use it.

"Yes. All of them. I think...I fear we must be the only two left."

He was close to her now. She reached for him. He took her in his arms. She began to sob into his vest, and it was just...perfect.

With nary more a seconds pause, he was at her throat-and it caught her by such surprise she didn't even have time to yell. He drained her to the point of weakness, to where her heart was struggling to move blood through that tiny form, before he pulled away...and waved at me. I couldn't help but tilt my head in surprise.

"Present for you." Angelus beckoned at me, the demon once again there with it's frighteningly intense eyes. Even when he wasn't playing human, Angelus's gaze had always moved me with it's severity. Dark and cold when playing mortal. Dangerously savage in his demon mode. I'd come to love both sides and faces of my mentor.

I glided to him, and he held her out to me as though he'd practically giftwrapped her. Well, perhaps not an inappropriate metaphor. I held her, and she was still warm. A little bird, fallen from it's nest... a small, helpless little thing in the jaws of something much larger...and hungry. I ran a finger along that pale throat, outside the lines of where he'd taken her..but looked back at him. " Can't we share?"

He laughed. Heartily and loudly, and the demon in him was thrilled. "Well, if you insist."

And we did. Drank the sweet little bird down, singing in our hearts as the life left her. As that honey-sweetness filled my mouth and slaked the thirst. Well-that particular one, anyway.

"Aw, lookit the boys, sharing a little treat." came a cool, dreamy voice. " And here I am, late to the party."

William was right at Drucilla's side, as was usual. " Didn't save any for us?" he said, and smirked in his usual tongue-in-cheek manner. "Right shame, that is."

Darla came up behind Angelus, what little light remained shimmering in her golden threads for hair. " Let them enjoy it." she smiled at me, and it was a look I returned. "After all, he who finished his vegetables, gets dessert." she leaned into Angelus, and purred. " Isn't that right?"

Dessert...? I laughed. We weren't even to that, yet.

Promises, promises.


	3. Chapter 3

It was getting late.

Or early, depending on your perspective.

It had been decided that we would depart the area that evening: more so that we were not discovered by an angry mob anywhere nearby when day broke. William had gone off to retrieve some horses, but when he returned, there were only two, although to his credit, they were well stocked and saddled. Angelus looked displeased. One of us would be walking, and it meant that we wouldn't be getting as far as we'd hoped before dawn.

I knew what the strained jaw and the furrowing of Angelus's brow meant. William would suffer for the lack of transportation later, although, really, he couldn't be blamed: after all, we'd left the whole damned town in flames. Really, at times I thought, Angelus's subtle tortures weren't necessary in such a case-it was one of very, very few subjects I disagreed with my sire on. However, I never spoke the thoughts aloud. I was sure he knew anyway, but I wasn't going to risk enticing his anger by saying so. Angelus himself was called 'The Scourge of Europe' for a very good reason.

Angelus ordered William and Drucilla on one of the horses, Darla and I on the other. Drucilla sat side-saddle and gripped William around the waist, pressing herself close to him. Darla, on the other hand, sat in front of me, and I took the reigns from behind her. Angelus led the way down the road.

We moved quickly-Angelus walked faster then any human ever could without tiring, and several times, the horses were made to trot to keep up. Gradually the sky lightened, and I began to worry, out in this remote countryside, that we would never find shelter from the sun. It had been hours since we'd seen even so much as a hovel, let alone a town with an inn to stay at.

Angelus, however, didn't seem concerned; another several minutes, and suddenly, I could see why. Just off in the distance, a vineyard came into view, and, on a high hillside, a well-to-do farmhouse. Darla purred once more-she always had hated staying in 'typical' lairs: crypts and dank castles were not on her high list. She was, first and foremost, picky about where, and with whom, she spent her nights.

The horses hooves bit sharp little pebbles as we rode on, making our way for that elegant house on the hill. Sans the vineyard, the cool morning mist that was beginning to shroud us all reminded me a tad of home. Soon it was thicker then soup, as if the hallowed-eve wraiths had followed us all the way here, and the cold bit my eyes and made it hard to see, even with our superior night vision. The cool air didn't bother us-our warmth was stolen, anyhow. Still, Drucilla seemed to hug William for warmth, and when I cast another glance over, she was yawning, a dainty, gloved hand to her mouth in a seemingly childlike gesture of feigned politeness. Not a drop of blood had touched her black velvet dress-and how she always managed to keep it from doing so was a perpetual mystery to me.

The sky was pale by the time we arrived at the door of the house on the hill. The droplets of early morning smelled of damp, country lavender. Angelus indicated that we should all wait for him. He walked up the front steppe and knocked on the door.

It was an elderly man that answered, and his wife followed shortly. Angelus explained our origins-how we had escaped a terrible disaster westward and were tired and road weary. The couple carried with them the sickening smell of goodness, and so a couple of well place moans from Drucilla and a batting of eyelashes from Darla, and we had our invitation. Angelus smiled and went in first, and William helped the women down from the saddles. I tied the horses up, unpacked, and hesitantly walked inside, listening with a smile at the sudden racket that had erupted from the foyer. The woman screamed. When I peeked in, I wasn't surprised to see that both of the mortals had had their necks broken. It seemed a waste, but none of us were fond of the elderly if there was other game to be had, and we'd fed so well that night, we'd keep for at least a new more days. The couple had stables and there would no doubt be more horses. Angelus said we would stay as long as it remained feasible.

Angelus made William 'clean up'. I burned a little blood to force a sigh and rolled my eyes, but started about for a tour of the place. It was pleasantly large and airy-boarding up the windows would take time, but by happenstance I stumbled upon the wine cellar. It would do in a pinch, and when night fell again, we could make a larger effort towards making the house comfortable.

I reported this to Angelus, who was in the kitchen admiring the liqueur cabinet.

" No, no, Penn. That won't do." he shut the cupboard doors, then, and gave me a pointed look. " The women won't have anything less then a bed to call their own." the corner of his mouth quirked up. " You know that."

The women were spoiled as hell, but I didn't say it. I only nodded and started looking for some wood, at least to board up the foyer and a couple of bedroom windows. I ended up breaking one of the large oak tables in the kitchen, and ripping a few doors from their hinges.

As I worked, William and Dru were quite busy snogging in the corner, having found a comfortable sofa on which to do so. Darla, in the meanwhile, was admiring a bookshelf in the same nookery. After a few moments, she pulled one down, inspected it with a curious eyebrow, and sat herself down on another sectional chair opposite the two on the couch. When they started getting flouncy and flowery, _I _decided to start on the windows upstairs.

The sky outside was the color of pale cream, and I was beginning to be concerned. I'd already blacked out downstairs, but. Unless Angelus and I had planned to sleep on the wooden floor.. well. I wasn't too thrilled about that prospect. Maybe I was getting spoiled, too. So many vampires who were willing to settle for a mausoleum or even a tunnel system or a cave, and here I was moaning about having to sleep on the floor. A hundred years ago, I'd of slept outside in the rain. I was getting as bad as Dru!

Bollocks. Fucking hell. Damnit.

I was so focused on this, and trying to hurry with setting and securing the torn off doors in their place, I hadn't even heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. If there had been any at all, which I doubted. Instead, I'd felt only that cold aura in the room, and I hardly had to turn to see Angelus, leering in the doorway.

A hundred years since our meeting, and he was still like a hungry tiger on the prowl. I knew that shine in his eyes, and even now, I had to fight the urge to run. It was what he liked-what he loved. Seeing me run. It was how he'd taken me the first time, and the hundreds thereafter.

To the pit with that. By now, I was just bushed and wanted to sleep. Of course, defusing Angelus was like going for a stroll in mid-afternoon. Useless to even try, and dangerous to boot.

"I've just about finished." I told him, but kept him just in the corner of my eye. " We'll have these two rooms for the morn, and the living area."

The heels of his shoes clacked against the floor as he took a couple of steps in my direction. He looked up at the boards in mock interest, and for a moment, I had the vain hope that maybe he was tired from all the walking, too, and the rising sun in the east.

" Fair work." he said coolly, but that dark gleam never left his eye. If I'd of had a heartbeat, I might go so far to say it skipped. Instead, I only felt a nervous voice in the back of my head. _Run..._it whispered, as it always did. I swat it aside in irritation. I was not a damned cow. Were that the case, I reasoned, I wouldn't be standing there. Angelus wouldn't of had me were I a common meal.

Call me _omadhaun*_. Not a cow, but a fool, if there was one.

Angelus was glowering at me now. He was taller then me-by only a few inches, but it was enough to intimidate me. Well, wasn't it always?

I'd taken off my shoes and overcoat to work and be comfortable, and so my feet made no noise across the floor as I retreated a half a step. " And—you and the ladies can have up here. Uh—I'll...stay down-" my voice broke, and he smirked. I was a moth in his flame, and he knew it. " -stairs-"

_Run! _

I was fast, but he was faster-he had 60 years more experience then I. I didn't even make it half a step.

His grip was stronger then mine. Much stronger, and it bit sharply into my wrists. I hit the wall next to the window so hard it was a wonder my spine didn't shatter. If I'd of been human, it may have.

Angelus clicked his tongue at me, and that...malicious smile was back. " Now, Penn... I _know _you weren't trying to run from me again." pause. " Were you?"

I didn't answer him. If you stand perfectly still, the beast might not see you.

As if I had a chance. I tried to look away. Not to look in those coffee-brown eyes, with their glow of hunger and depravity. Angelus's demon was stronger then my own, and seeped in moral abjection. Whereas my own had been created by this monster in front of me, Angelus's demon had been cast strait from the forges of hell and sent to walk the earth. Oh, and his fire burned me like dry leaves.

He smelled like smoke. It was in his cloths, in his hair..and just under it, the smell of scorched poppy, nicotania, and vetiver. Ah, vanity! It was all Angelus's, that scent, and it drugged me. The smell of blood and perfume and destruction. Angelus's lust for corruption, and mine, to be corrupted. The demon...he came, and bled into my face, my eyes...my throat, and it was what Angelus had been waiting for. He chuckled, that dark, scrumptious noise, and it slid along the surface of my skin like hot silk.

"There's my boy..." he sighed, a caress of forced breath along the curve of my neck, just at the shoulder. I shuddered, and tried to turn my head away from him. Away from that smell, impossible though it was. Away from that demon. Away from that fallen Angel.

He would have none of it, and just as quickly, both of my wrists were in his one hand, and my face was in the other. His fingers in the flesh so hard, it would bruise even me. He forced me. Forced me, forced my demon. Forced himself into our eyes, to make us see what lurked there, what we were in for.

I was terrified. I always was.

His thumb flicked, tilting my chin up, casting my gaze back up to the ceiling, and to the sky beyond the roof. Heavenward, and I cursed him for it. Cursed him, and cursed god, for allowing this monster to take my soul, and still leaving me begging for more. I fought him. Even as I felt cold lips on my throat, I fought him. I closed my eyes-I didn't want to be there for it. For any of it. But damn my voice, and damn the demon who betrayed me. Who delighted in my suffering, and who now controlled my lips as they begged for him.

"_Da...!*"_ it called, and inwardly, I screamed. I screamed, because I was lost. Because I was the demon, because I was damned...and I relished every minute of it. Every aching, endless, eternal second of pain and torture he inflicted upon me, and I only hungered for more.

His weight against me was stifling, and this close to him, I felt like air being consumed by fire. I was feeding his flames, and he was burning me. Hotter, higher-jesus fucking christ, I was in hell. I had to be. I was in hell, and hell was my heaven, and Angelus was my god. A cruel, merciless, sadistic fucking god. I was just a fucking toy, a fucking object, _his _object, for him to play with. He'd created me, designed me, built me. And he was still at work, like any artist, he would never stop until I was a fucking masterpiece. This god was a cursed perfectionist, and me, clay in his hands.

All of me, just clay in his fucking hands.

Sharp teeth were just a phantom touch across my skin. Without another word, he released my hands. It was a vain move, but I tried. I tried to run again. Willed my muscles to move, willed my feet to work.

He caught me by the shirt, and slammed me back to the wall. This time, my face hit it hard-hard enough to hurt. I hissed, and he seized my neck with one hand over my shoulder, and it was a painful angle. I felt a growl in my throat. The demon was egging my sire on-daring him. Daring him towards ruin, towards the corruption he loved so much.

"Say it." he whispered in my ear.

I tried to push myself away from the wall, but he was there again. At my back. Taller then I, but not too much. Like that final bowl of porridge that...golden haired tart had settled on, he'd chosen me because I was _just right..._

No. I wouldn't give it to him so easily. Not tonight, not any other night. Even as, in the back of my mind, in the echoing emptiness where once my soul had resided, I knew it was a lost battle. A lost war. Even in my silence, I had lost. It was only a matter of moments. I was hard under his prying hands..under those cold, cold hands...

He jerked me, and the demon roared, and I screamed. " Penn." he snarled at me, making my name a command. My mortal name, my mortal life...what I had been. Destroyed. Every time, destroyed. Every night, completely and utterly ruined.

Fuck it. I'd give him what he wanted.

I hardly found a voice. Could hardly say it, but it was what he wanted. What I wanted. What our demons wanted.

"No." I whispered, and felt a sting in my eyes. I wouldn't let him see it. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction this time. Wouldn't say anymore prayers to this evil..oh, this wonderfully evil angel.

Cruel hands, cruel claws, and they were in me, and he jerked harder this time, taking my stolen breath from me- and I felt those small blades for teeth at my ear.

" You can do better then that." Angelus snarled.

I was choking on my own words. Choking not to speak them, not to give in. Not to want it. Not to want my sire..._my sire.._ and it was sick. It was fucked up, but it was my everything. " Stop-!" the demon cried out loud, laughing at me inwardly. Mocking my weakness. Drinking down my fear, like fine absinthe, burning it's way down. Setting the whole world in spinning motion, fueling Angelus's hellfire.

His nails bit into my skin, and his grip was agonizingly tight. " You see, Penn." Angelus hummed in my ear. "It's about power." low in my throat, the demon snarled, another dare. Angelus complied, and it hurt so much I wailed. Even the demon reeled, but then surged back with a hunger for more. " It's about control." a soft kiss at the artery of my neck. " And one day, you just may have it."

" NO!" I screamed helplessly. My nails carved trenches in the wood, but it was too late. Angelus surged, and filled me. As far and fast as his speed and strength would allow him. At my throat, at my back-my ruthless, coldblooded, vainglorious god.

He tore me open, as he always did, and left my feeding-and my stubborn shard of humanity- to bleed out on that cold, wooden floor.


	4. Chapter 4

"Penn. You'll be cutting your hair this evening."

My hands stopped, causing the horse to snort impatiently. Angelus was there, leaning in the stable entryway. It said a lot for the nature of Angelus's demon that even the animals were uneasy towards him; it was the one edge I'd always had over my sire. I couldn't be sure if it had been because of my mortal life, or something had carried over from it; but where Angelus had always had trouble with the horses, they acted with me as they would with any mortal. I rather suspected the only reason I hadn't had this shred of humanity beaten out of me was because it was such an asset to us.

I went back to brushing out it's mane. " ...May I ask why?" my voice was quiet-not a challenge, not a threat to him. One day, perhaps-but for now, I wasn't strong enough.

" You may ask." he said, those cold lips quirking up in that self-sure smirk. With that, however, he straitened and started in my direction. The horse fidgeted nervously under my hands. " The women would like to make for Paris. In two nights." he shrugged. " Three maybe."

" I don't see why that necessitates cutting my hair." I said, but it was a ruse to hide what I was thinking. I hated cities. Darla was all about them-my grandsire, always about the pickings. So beautiful was she that in a city, never did we have to hunt. Prey came willingly, and it was easy to cover the crime. And when the frenzy worked up enough, one could simply leave until the hype wore down, and return, with none the wiser. It was an interesting trick-I'd never been one for cities, but I thought, if it ever came to that, it was useful to keep in mind. In the short term, though? I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of going. More likely then not, it meant boarding a train, with no sure way to guard against daylight. Foolish, no matter how fine a food selection there might be once we got there.

"Short hair is all the rave, there, the ladies say." Angelus was still smirking. There was only the faintest hint of an accent in his voice: Angelus had nearly lost nearly all his _Gaillimhe _* flavoring. I was proud, to say my own, _Maigh Eo_*, had hardly faded at all. When I'd been mortal, the missionaries-oh how they had tried to crush it beneath the feet of their English idiom. Even my father, working as a pastor, had wrestled to cast his own away. 'God's will' was the miserable excuse they'd used for it. Well, that was all bloody well and good. I'd eaten every 'well to do' missionary that had crossed my path since. For that matter, my companions were usually all to accommodating when it came to...helping.

After all, one can only eat so much, vampires included.

_The ladies_. I scoffed, but said nothing of my thoughts. Instead, I only nodded. " Shall I finish up with the horses then?"

Angelus looked thoughtful for a moment. " You may, yes. William is inside to help you."

I answered with a curt nod, and after a second, Angleus was gone.

I took advantage of the solitude. There were evenings that I quite fancied being alone. Something familiar about it. The demon preferred it this way: contrary to the misconception, we were not pack creatures. Sometimes, younger teeth would shelter themselves under an older, more experienced pair-in our case, we were all under the wing of Darla-her flitting whim, at best, as she and Angelus had had several spats that spanned the century that had caused them both to split. In these times, I'd chosen to stay with my sire, an act of sheer rebellion against what that dark creature inside me wanted. All in all, however, it was not normal, as a rule of thumb.

Years later, William would go on to say that people had the notion that, once we were sired and risen from the dust, we were merely demons with human faces. I blamed Stoker. The reality of the situation was far more complex. Yes, in dying and rising, you lost your soul. What was a soul? A cat of a voice that pushed a person to do what was 'right' and 'good' and all of that...la dee da blather. What was dying and being reborn with no soul? Complete freedom from your inhibitions. From those incarcerating morals that bound you to society. All of a sudden, the world became your plaything. It was an absence of rules, an absence of boundaries-a break from all those irritating voices that told you 'no'. The truth of it was, while the women were grating, with their insistence on pleasantries and niceties, I would give Angelus anything he would ask of me. He was my Aul Man*: my god, and he had freed me.

_Bah_. This was an echo of Penn, the mortal shepherd boy that shared my name. All sap, the little _culchie_*. He was so much like William the Bloody (awful) that it was quite nearly laughable. I shook my head, chuckling to myself, before I decided I'd had enough with this dreadful indulgence in my mortal past. It was time to move on.

I put the stable brush back in the bucket I'd found hanging on the wall. The mortal in my head gave the horse one last pat, and I let him: more was the better that Angelus wasn't watching. I retrieved my shirt that hung by its collar on a nail, buttoned it up quickly, and made back for the house.

As I walked, I could smell winter approaching. The air was moist and cold, and tonight, the stars were blot out by dark, menacing clouds. The air was damp and faintly electric. It would rain soon, and... fucking hell, the women wanted to travel. Just what the hell did they think would happen to all their fine cloths and pretty fucking bows that Angelus and I had worked so hard to get them? All those dainty noblewomen we'd had to court and drain dry, to say nothing of nosy seamstresses. I could picture Drucilla now: " Let's go for a dander in the rain, shall we!" strolling out in her classy velvets and pretty pearls. Christ, if I could have strangled her and watched that tiny face turn blue...

I came in the house, and took of my shoes. Another remnant from being mortal, I suppose: I hated the damned things. Wearing them for so long had softened the calluses on my soles and made me soft footed. Where once I'd been able to walk through thickets and over stone-laden hills completely barefoot, I could hardly do so now. Travel for so long with Angelus and Darla had made me a right ponce, and I hated it.

" William!" I called out, and made to start upstairs to the washroom. His voice came from the sitting room, though, so I diverted my course, just in time to see him picking up a chair to carry with him. He held a folded strait razor in his other hand. Well, this was going to be fuckin' great.

Worse, almost, was William himself. They'd made him cut his hair, too, and this short and wavy, it made him look like a weedy _tan_*, and it was startling, the difference. Like 30 years had come off his face, and left him looking hardly more then 20. Pallor aside, of course.

He must have seen the look on my face. "This is all their doing, mate, I promise you that."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. " I've no doubt." I tilted an eyebrow at him. " You look a _gimp_*, you know that?"

He laughed, too. This was how it was, between us. Humor, at least when Angelus wasn't around. For that matter, I couldn't help but notice William was sporting a faint shiner. He'd must of done something to set him off again. Angelus had a way of beating on the young fangs when he wasn't being demon enough, and had enough strength to mar a complexion with hardly any blood in it to boot. Of course, he did that with the both of us, the difference being, I had a hundred years on William, and had a much better handle on how to play the game then he.

"They say it's the fashion, you know. The girls."

" The fashion is to look more like boys then men?" I couldn't keep the disdain out of my face. " That's just revolting."

" You think it's bad here, man. I've heard it's worse across the pond." William started upstairs, and I followed him.

I wrinkled my nose. " Bloody Americans are always arse backwards."

Once we were upstairs and in front of the basin, William kicked the door closed behind us. "Fancy a shave first, mate, or your head bloody butchered?"

I held my hand out for the strait razor. The little gleaming bit of steel in my hand was cold as it passed from William to me.

I started to the sink and ran cold water in it. I lathered with a bar of soap, all the while, William watching from behind. " I don't know how you do it, man." he started behind me. There was no reflection in the mirror, but I could picture his expression. I'd seen it before as I worked. " No point of reference, it's a bit of strange, you know."

I smirked. " I've a lot more practice then you, Will. You'll get the hang of it, after a hundred years or so, ay?"

He made a skeptical noise behind me, and was silent then, until I reached for a towel to pat my face dry. When I looked back at him , he titled his eyes down with an expression of ' this is ridiculous'.

" You ready, then?"

I nodded. " If looking like a complete chiseller is what's high on, I suppose we'd best make with it" _because the girls said so_. I rolled my eyes but sat down in the chair. " You'd best do a good job, or I'll take your head off."

I could hear the smile in William's voice. " Don't worry, mate, I'll play fair."

I smiled, too. " You'd best, or else." neither one of us said what we were really thinking. If William screwed up and I ended up looking like an idiot, he'd be the one that paid for it later. Angelus would have him on the end of a stake, and that was if he was lucky.

After that, the house was eerily silent, save for the sound of the scissors, snipping away. That was, until Dru's screams started down the hallway.

I already knew it was coming; it had to, at some point. I didn't know where Darla was or what she was doing: the girls had always been adamant that three was a crowd-but right now, it wasn't about the thrill, unless the thrill was meant to make William feel absolutely shitty. When his hands suddenly stopped, my suspicions proved right.

"William." I warned. If he gave in and went stomping down the hall in a rage, Angelus would be getting exactly what he wanted. Another excuse to beat new-fangs to a bloody mess. I'd never understood just what it was about the sod that pissed Angelus off so much: Angelus maintained that William wasn't demon enough for Dru. William always gave in and let that simpering part of his humanity get in the way. If just for once he'd stop getting so bent up about Angelus bein' master he'd have it a lot less worse then he did. Angelus had never treated me with that same degree of brutality, but he had no pity for being a siss. William needed to get it through his thick skull.

" Oh-dry up, will you?" I said, hoping to fend off another incident with him and Angelus. I wasn't in the mood for it this evening. "He's trying to get a rise out of you, and you're acting a fool. You'll get it later, if you go marching off."

Inwardly, I didn't blame William for being so angry. I'd not been around for his siring, but I'd been around for the carnage afterward. William was a poet, and by extension, and romantic. The type that pined for the one he set in his sights. He was a bit of a one track that way, but what Angelus didn't realize was how incredibly useful that very trait could be. He sought to crush it in the man at my back, but when passion was stoked, it was just like our last hallowed-eve: a blazing wildfire with no conscience, with no remorse: only a force of sheer destruction and chaos. I thought about this for a minute.

"Angelus doesn't think you're demon enough, William?" I smiled slowly. " There are ways of retaliating, you know."

A second of silence. I had his attention-good. " Finish up, won't you?" I said. " I have an idea."

William was good at doing what he was told. Both of us were, and so he obliged with nary a word. When he was done, I stood up, and brushed off my shoulders. My head felt lighter, and I ran my hand through it to clear it. Fucking hell. William was a master with the shears, and I don't know how he'd done it, but when the word 'short' had flown, there was no humor involved. I looked like a fucking gent.

_Fucking curse Dru._ And curse Darla, too, I thought.

William was watching me intently, curiously. The commotion down the hall was only getting louder, and I could tell it was grating on him. Alright, I thought. It was time to teach the fledge a lesson of my own.

" You want to stick it to Angelus, do you?" I asked, and gave him my best dark look, without letting the demon bleed in. William smiled a little-just a hint of his own darkness bleeding into lips that were still pink: he'd hardly been dead a decade, you see. He nodded, only just now starting to look exited at the prospect.

I stepped closer to him. Really close. Close enough to smell his cologne-in stark contrast to the vile debauchery of Angelus's, Williams scent was all honeysuckle and heliotrope. A lover, indeed-the smell was warm, and reminiscent of life. Of days in the sun. I would put a stop to that, I thought. To make him the demon Angelus wanted him to be, I would teach Drucilla's dog a useful trick: how to roll over and play dead.

I kept my voice low as I leaned in. I burned the blood-stolen from a caravan driver on the road earlier that night-and let only the faintest hint of breath touch that pale, peach colored throat. I whispered, so as not to let Angelus hear my plan through the walls.

" How far are you willing to go?"

I let my fingers find his own. Touched them for only the briefest moment, before I danced them up to the whiteness of his wrists, where the pulse on a human would be. Played them lightly there, and enjoyed the look of shock and confusion on his face.

He was like a rabbit, catching sight of the fox for the first time. Fucking Christ, didn't he have a demon at all? He swallowed hard, and struggled several times to find his voice.

"For her?" He paused, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. " All the bleedin' way."

I smiled. It was the answer I wanted. _Fucking romantics_, I thought. All of us. Every single fucking one of us with a bleeding heart. Even when we were dead, we were doomed. We liked to burn. Burn hot in love, hot in passion..hot in hate. Original sin, perhaps-we were damned from day one. Scorched souls even as babes, just waiting for a proper spark to ignite us. For a flame to devour us, to consume everything we were, and leave blackness it it's wake. Blackness and crackling ashes.

I titled my eyes up at him. Let him see the storm clouds brewing there. Angelus had always remarked on my eyes-said they reminded him of the isle mists. Then he'd call the demon, and laugh as the mists were evaporated by the gold the snarling, hungry creature brought with it.

I took his hand and brought it to my lips. A brush of cold lips across his wrists, and it caught his breath. Bloody _omadhaun_ hadn't even learned yet how to conserve the blood-his body still breathed of it's own accord. A growl echoed from the depths of my chest, where my heartbeat once had been. It was all too perfect, this young thing still playing mortal, with hardly a bold demon resting in that silent empty shell of his. Did I have skill? Could I wake it, call it, like Angelus called mine?

We would see.

A flick of my tongue across that same wrist: William tasted of honey and ashes: he was dead, but hid it well. That honey was his youth-not unlike the sweetness that I'd drank as I'd devoured my brother. My older brother had been quite different from I: strait out of the school and into the parish. It was he my father had been most proud of. As for me? It was a disgrace on our name that I'd been happy with the old ways. Herding sheep down in the bog had suited me just fine. Unfortunately for my family, they'd felt different.

The waking feast had been the best, at any rate.

Ah—it was that honeysuckle making me nostalgic again. Seemed as though a lot had been doing that as of late. No matter-pent up would delight Angelus later.

I slid my free hand around William's neck, resting my thumb just at the curve of his jaw, and made work of caressing those sharp bones of his cheek. At the very least, I thought, he looked quite distinguished. If he could ever get over that bit of caffer in him, he might've had a chance at a reputation nearly as brilliant as Angelus's. " The demon with the face of an Angel", my sire was called. And right now? William was just...William. The bloody awful poet. I smiled, leaning in closer to him. I'd never actually even heard his poetry.

I took him by the shirt, then. Faster then he could see-speed was something Angelus and I had that William didn't. Speed, and age, and I used it now-like when I hunted. It didn't take much strength to toss him to the floor; he tumbled onto the braided rug far over to the corner and nearly hit his head on the tub, and then looked to me as though I'd slapped him. Good, he was afraid. I titled my head, gave him a good look at what was coming, Let him see the coiled serpent in the grass. When the moment had passed, I moved.

I left his cloths in ribbons. Let Angelus find them ruined-let Drucilla see that someone else was giving her puppy a biscuit. When our skin touched, it was electric. When our lips locked, I let the demon go. It was hungry again, but now, I could whet this particular appetite. A quick nip at Williams lips, and there came that honey sweetness again: thicker then a mortals, with no heartbeat to push it through, but I savored it like a bit of fine chocolate. He'd been into the wine stock, I thought-I could taste a bit of wild lavender and alcohol in those small, candy droplets.

Jesus—motherfucking Jesus! For a dead man, he was warm. So fucking warm, and oh god, how I wanted it! He was tense: every muscle protesting, but I didn't care. That bit of honey was all mine.

I hovered over him with that hunger, breaking only for a second for him to see me. I moved my hands, up over those smooth warm hips, up his sides to his arms, to graze his throat with my nails.

He fought it. His demon fought it, but when my thumbnail bit into his cheek, he cried out loud, and that weak, hidden demon surged to the surface and pushed back, snapping at my own throat hungrily, which I easily avoided. I was holding him down, and I wasn't letting him go. I would make him strong. The killer that Angelus wanted: the monster my Sire was looking for.

William snarled in frustration: he was hungry now, too-and I was pleased at this. When he snapped again, I dodged in return, and when he was starting to get frustrated, I came back to him, so hard and forceful it hurt. Hurt him, hurt me. It was the moment I was waiting for-our teeth hit, and I came up one last time.

" William." I called his name, but the human was lost. Only that yellow eyed creature stared back at me, panting like the dog he was. I laughed. I'd succeeded, and it was brilliant.

I moved forward again. Hovered there. Made it one agonizingly long second, until he was begging. pleading, swearing. Damning me for my tortures. I let my fangs touch his throat. "I'm already damned, William." I whispered, letting that electric hum dance over his skin. He shuddered under my weight. Oh, what Angelus was missing...what Drucilla was missing.

" Scream for me..." I hissed. 


	5. Chapter 5

It's half-past two when Angelus burst into the foyer, dark eyes glistening like well-oiled leather.

"You wretch." he snarls in my direction. Darla, opposite me, all prim and rosy cheeked from her latest meal, looked only vaguely interested as her offspring started on his outburst.

I hardly cast an eye at my sire, rather, pretending to be interested in a dusty poetry anthology (_oh irony, _I think) I'd pulled off a bookcase only a few minutes earlier. I leave the title of it facing Angelus as a subtle jab. If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Is something wrong?" I asked with mock innocence-that same innocence that he savors so much, only now, turned against him. It's positively delicious. I don't even have to look up to know that a half a second later, he was closer-leering over me with that paternal-inferiority complex, as though I were a child who'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

"Whose idea was it, Penn?" his voice was low, but an angry delirium was dancing a jig across that heavenly face. An ill wind was about to blow.

" I've not the faintest idea what you're talking about." I persisted, but my attempt to fain disinterest was failing me-I couldn't manage to keep the smirk off my face. I was a miserable taunt, and I knew it. Instead, I made a concentrated effort to bury my head in the arid book and not laugh. William had gotten precisely the reaction out of Angelus he'd hoped for, and I'd managed to best my sire at his own game, just this once. It was nothing short of amusing, serious though the situation was. This time, my sire's stiff necked, overbearing arrogance had caught up to him.

As I suspected he would, Angelus seized the book from my hands and hurled it carelessly to the floor, where it erupted in a plume of dust. He leaned in and caged me in my chair, either hand gripping the armrest until his knuckles turned white.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. " You're being a saucy thing this evening, aren't you?" he said, looming over me and speaking in hardly more then a whisper. "Feeling brave, Penn?"

This situation called for delicate handling. Otherwise, I might end up paying for making him angry. Paying for it—for a very, very long time.

" Am I to understand you're upset about William finally growing some grapes?" I tilted an eyebrow at my sire, but smiled carefully. " Angelus. Really? Here I thought that was the point of all your...careful instruction."

His ceaseless gaze melted me as though I were the wick of a candle. " And you thought to take in on yourself to do the instructing, did you?"

I was beginning to think perhaps my 'idea' had been ill-considered, after all. Angelus was in a state, and it looked as though there was no talking him down. I chose my next words very carefully.

" The whelp needed to be put in his place." I started, haphazardly venturing forth with an outright lie: but one that would make sense. I was a sired-first brother to William, after all. A higher rank in the pecking order. Lying to Angelus, though...always risky, because some nights, Angelus could smell a falsehood a mile away. For a moment, I feared he wasn't falling for it. " And I beg excuse for saying so, but my methods for bringing that...besotted fool to his proper senses are somewhat different then yours, ay?"

His jaw was grating. Hell. _Bloody fucking hell. _Now it was almost certain he wasn't buying it, and it was all I could do to retain my matter-of-fact expression in the broiling heat of his anger. Whatever he was thinking, though, he never got to utter. Behind him, a dainty hand lay on Angelus's shoulder, and pulled him up away from me.

"Now my pretty Angel." my grandsire cooed at him, and one could practically feel her cool presence come over Angelus's hot anger. " You should be proud of him. He's made a fine pupil to you, and you won't see it." she tsked, and then smiled at me with sparks dancing in her eyes-a smile that said I'd amused her and she was happy for it. It was seldom that anyone know how to grate Angelus's nerves just right, but I'd done it, and it was entertaining her.

Angelus was looking over his shoulder, and there was a mixture of emotion on his face. The anger was still there, but it was melting-in the same manner I had melted under him-in the heat of Darla's allure. She was the only one that had ever been able to talk any kind of reason into him when he lost his temper, or was about to. Most of the time she hardly bothered, but much like William was to Dru, I was Darla's plaything. While Angelus looked for pretty things and...weddings to spoil, Darla and I had a palate for the clergy. We often made work of churches while Angelus took it on himself to 'instruct' William.

He was just about to speak to her, but his lips parted only slightly when anther waiflike voice filtered in the room.

" There's flies in my punch bowl." Drucilla crooned from the entry way. " And the party's all spoiled."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't let either of them see it. Angelus, though, cast one more withering look in my direction, but started to Dru with an imploring gesture.

" There's no ruin." Angelus said, smiling that familiar darkness at her. " The lad was only testing the water, just the way I taught him." He tilted his chin in my direction, and she followed his gaze. " Just think. One day, he'll be the perfect killer."

"Then we'll have tea and cookies?" Drucilla asked hopefully, but her eyes never left me. " All kinds of sweet confections. Cream and sugar rolls."

" A party all for you." Angelus affirmed.

I'd had enough. I stood up, brushed the remnant dust from the book off of my shirt, and started around them. If there was anything that made me nauseous, watching Angelus swoon over his prize convent girl was it.

A painful grip on my arm stopped me. Angelus had grabbed me as I'd started around him and Dru. As he leaned in, I felt a stab of fear in my chest, but it was only to whisper in my ear.

" If he touches you again." Angelus started, growling low and quietly. " I'll leave you both to the sun. Understand me?"

If I'd of had a pulse, I'm sure it would have been silenced in that fear. The younger, flegdeling demon in me was cowed by the weight and age of my sire's. He meant every word he'd said, and I knew it. I didn't answer him. He saw the look in my eyes, and it was what he wanted. He rewarded me with a hungry smile and a knowing tilt of his brow.

"You're mine, Penn."

A passing moment...and then, there was something new. From the corner, the demon grinned. Angelus had just made himself weak. Had just made me _stronger..._

I touched my cheek to his. Burned a few blood cells to let stolen breath glide gently along the pale skin, just at the bend of his jaw. Didn't care that the women were watching. Didn't care that it would offend their delicate sensibilities. This moment was mine, and it was perfect.

" You see," I breathed softly to my sire, my god. He was confused. I could tell he was confused, because he went still..I kissed him with only the slightest brush of lips.

" It's all about power. About... control."

I left him there in stunned silence, and went out to find breakfast.


End file.
